12 September 2026
Crossing the ocean to North America for the very first time carries a specific kind of magic, especially alongside a handful of UK journalists heading deep into northwestern Quebec. Our destination? Rouyn-Noranda for FME, also known as Festival de musique émergente. Born over twenty years ago in a rugged copper-mining town, the beloved non-profit festival has quietly evolved into one of Canada’s most revered, unconventional showcases for discovering emerging musical talent.
Factoring in the occasion, a seven-hour flight feels like nothing at all. I’d typically settle in with a couple of pre-flight levellers, a Stella or two at the gate perhaps, but this time it was a nice bottle of Smartwater and the excitement of visiting somewhere new. We were far too excited to dull the edge. A smooth flight with Air Canada follows, where I somehow gracefully manage to secure a full double seat to myself before we land in Montreal, transporting back in time by five hours due to the time difference. A brief exploration of the city and a couple of accustomary purchases (us Brits love a souvenir), it’s back to the hotel, where my sleep schedule unfortunately gets the best of me, and takes me to early the following morning for coach and travel time.
Sitting on a coach for nine hours might not sound like everyone’s idea of a good time, but trust me, the scenery makes every minute worth it. Endless stretches of dense forest swallow up the narrow roads, low-hanging clouds rest on the hilltops, and pristine lakes appear around every bend, punctuated by the occasional John Deere garage spawning out of nowhere.
After getting to the hotel early-ish, the wait is finally over: we’ve officially touched down at FME. There’s no time to hang about, with nothing more promising than the thought of hearing some live music after a long travel.
I don’t speak French, or at least, not well. Despite four years of studying it with very little to show for it, I can only pick up a phrase here and there. But at FME as a non-native, not understanding every lyric actually opens my mind in real time, forcing me to lean into the musicality itself and unlock layers I might have otherwise missed. Honestly, it’s a beautiful thing, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be doing it.
Grabbing a drink as we arrive at the 7th street, Malaimé Soleil are the first for us to catch. It’s the first flavour of the Canadian indie scene we get, a set that has us bouncing and swaying from the comfort of our slightly raised VIP platform, with tracks such as ‘Monotonie’ and ‘Tout rattraper’ repeatedly playing in my head post-show, with the novelty of unfamiliar territory and language still firmly in our spirit.
Kickstarting the indoor festivities, Max Baby brings an immediate burst of melodic charm to the night. Blending breezy indie-pop hooks with an effortless, cool-headed stage presence, the set serves as a perfect welcome mat to the festival, jumping into the crowd and animatedly performing ‘Nothing Ever Changes’ to a great reception. It’s light, catchy, and instantly lifts the lingering fatigue from the nine-hour journey.
On the SiriusXM stage outdoors, Public Appeal relishes in offering the first dose of bass-heavy hyperpop energy to FME, accompanied on the stage by her DJ, FLLEUR. Daring to channel the bratty attitude of Charli XCX with a combination of overdriven bass, glitchy synths and sassy bars, the Hong Kong-born, Montreal-based artist dominates the stage, leaving all those in the crowd blown away. In the spirit of wearing my heart on my sleeve, I predict great things over the next couple of years, and even on the first night, it looks as if we have an early exclusive into the performance of a future star.
Next up, to rest and replenish, ready for a busy few days ahead.
Friday
Friday offers the promise of our first real day of socialising and networking. With little time to lie in, we are treated to an incredible midday lunch cooked by MasterChef Québec winner Samuel Boisvert. Octopus, steak, and ribs, all accompanied by creative sauces and homemade garnishes, prove a tantalising treat for the palate. Warmed by a welcoming speech from Rouyn-Noranda’s mayor, kindly translated live by a new Canadian friend met just minutes prior, a selection of fine wines nest in the corner, assisting every handshake and introduction that happens over the course of the next two hours.
Hoping to burn off the calories from our recent rappel, we head straight to 55 Daillaire to catch Muhoza, the Montreal-based jazz-rap and hip-hop project led by Déric Muhoza Eloundou. Arriving on stage as an eight-piece ensemble, the group exude pure Ezra Collective-esque joy; saxophone, melodic guitars, driving rhythms, and backing vocals blend effortlessly, delivering a sound that is an explosion of silk on the ear, made even more euphoric by the plethora of smiles shining on stage. Bilingual vocal delivery merging French rap verses with silky, layered English hooks feels destined to come alive in future years at the Ronnie Scott’s and Blue Notes of the world. Muhoza, you most definitely have a new fan in me.
Friday evening marks the dedicated rap showcase, though the surrounding venues offer a rich variety across the board. In a bid to take in as much as possible, I head straight to the main stage, where emerging Montreal-based singer and rapper Kamilou opens the SiriusXM event with a dynamic, emotionally charged set, effortlessly hooking the early crowd with her blend of sincere rap, bright melodies, and organic jazz touches. There seems to be a tangible hype for her, perhaps another glimpse into an artist on the cusp of expansion.
Next up, St-Bruno’s Aswell injects a different energy into the evening, offloading infectious, pop-infused hooks as emotive as can be. The audience demographic here today is slightly younger – perhaps Friday feeling has hit the town? Despite that, the crowd is still widely diverse, with age ranges from small children to older generations, all coming together in harmony to celebrate the local music scene.
French-Canadian hip-hop veteran Koriass, who is notably the two-time winner of the Prix Félix for Best Hip Hop Album, is the last rap act on the main stage, taking over with a differentiating authority and delivering a blistering, high-octane performance with an unmatched stage presence. Again, although much of what he rapped I did not understand, I felt it. And that’s what music should be for, right?
A big double header comes next as we head over to the Le Petit Théatre stage to catch the tail end of Corridor and La Securitié.
Keeping the evening momentum surging, La Sécurité take the stage with a relentless wave of art-punk energy. A tightly coiled spring of off-kilter danceability, bilingual lyrics amongst funky basslines pave the way for frontwoman Éliane Viens-Synnott to captivate the audience with her magnetic stage presence and charisma. There’s no doubt why these lot are quickly becoming one of Montreal’s most vital live acts, and also notably, signed to Brighton’s Bella Union Records.
Rounding out the evening of rap, I squeeze into a tiny converted church venue around the corner for Zach Zoya & High Klassified, a set so wildly popular the room was packed to the brim. The duo deliver a hypnotic finish, seamlessly marrying Zoya’s versatile vocal range and smooth R&B hooks with High Klassified’s lush (multi-platinum) spacey production to close the evening on an absolute high.
With a couple more acts to check out, we briskly catch twenty minutes of Rotterdam rockers Iguana Death Cult in a sweaty sports bar, before the crew and I head into the basement venue on the main street to catch BALACLAVA, a grimy five-piece post-punk outfit hailing from Ridgewood, Queens. As their name suggests, all five step onto the stage in different-coloured balaclavas, looking like Power Rangers if they swapped superhero duties for knocking back a few beers and starting the odd moshpit.
Saturday
Saturday morning arrives, and although admittedly feeling slower than the previous, the promise of the midday poolside BBQ and mixer in collaboration with BONSOUND quickly revives the spirit. Tucked away at a remote location waterside of Lake Osisko under a sunny sky, delegates, artists, and locals gather around the poolside grill, with cold beers, tequila punch and live music the offering. A lovely palate cleanser no doubt, it’s a very laid back, but also further welcoming experience of being amongst the FME community for the first time.
This is the closest we’ve come to the town’s Lake Springfield-esque waters, and despite the giant Horne copper smelter looming in the background and local protest flyers warning of decades of heavy-metal pollution, I’ve done my best to turn a blind eye.
So not to dwell too much on that, replenished by some sharp tequila, more lovely food and a twenty-minute powernap, we wander around the corner of our hotel to catch one of FME’s trademark impromptu moments: a secret pop-up set by Mek D’r D’r in a nearby car park.
Performing in a Tim Horton’s carpark of all places, their raw, brass-heavy groove immediately draws a crowd out of thin air. Asphalt underfoot and sun overhead, it feels like the pure, unscripted heart of the festival. This is what it’s all about. Still reeling from their performance, we grab a quick word with them after the set. Looking over their vast array of percussion, I learn the whole setup is an eclectic collection assembled through years of trial and error (whilst taking a little snap to show you all below). We all love creative approaches to music, something different, and Mek D’r D’r do just that. Keep an eye on these two for sure.
At another secret pop-up show just across the road, Montreal’s Xela Edna takes to the stage straight after. Immersively blending dance choreography with glitchy, hybridised electronic experimental soundscapes, she exudes a confidence and presence reminiscent of FKA Twigs, operating in a similar realm, yet remaining entirely unique.
Another British journalist and I break off from our group of five to chat with locals at the press bar, where the hospitality flows as freely as the drinks. I’m handed a Bloody Caesar, seemingly one of the beverages of choice around here. My eyebrows definitely raise as a concoction of salt, pickles, tomato, and clam juice makes its way into my glass. Unsurprisingly, it’s an acquired taste (and not quite the one for me). While I appreciate sampling a Canadian staple, I quickly pivot to a cinnamon-infused Aperol instead at the expense of some-self embarrassment and thankfully, a warmly accepted apology.
Bar aside, the locals seem endlessly perplexed, and genuinely honoured, that we’ve flown all the way from the UK for FME, which is probably part of the reason they treat us so well. The occasional selfie followed by the words “I have to show my friends or they won’t believe me”, surprisingly occurred on a couple of occasions, which at first shocked me but slowly became quite endearing. Rouyn-Noranda quickly begins to feel like a home away from home, which I can affirm is entirely down to the warmth of the people who live here and are involved in the festival.
It’s Saturday night, and the electronic showcase is about to kick off, so the pre-drinks prove to be a pretty handy warm-up. Saying our goodbyes to the bar staff we have now befriended after a few hours of political, and dare I say “afters” chat, we make our way across the festival grounds.
First up is Montreal-based producer and composer Clément Leduc under his Hologramme moniker, an artist we previously highlighted in our FME preview. Hologramme crafts dystopian, atmospheric dance music, blending UK garage, ambient, and house soundscapes, and so was always bound to sound great in the Petit Théatre.
Drawing on his classical and jazz piano background, Leduc brings his keyboards and modular synths to life on stage with a vibe reminiscent of 2000s UK underground club culture, wires pouring across his custom-modular set-up. Think hints of Burial meet DJ Seinfeld (which is high praise) and mirroring an Overmono-style stage orientation that balances mellow electronic textures with heavy, brain-scratching drops that ease our way into the evening so nicely. A great listen.
Stepping in as the final electronic act of the showcase, TDJ (Terrain De Jeux) immediately shifts the tempo into overdrive with a euphoric, nostalgia-drenched blast of high-BPM trance and eurodance. Bathed in strobe lights, the Montreal native engages the crowd, myself included, in a sonic time capsule spanning from the ’90s to today, pairing old-school synths with punchy techno drums and heavy basslines for a deeply energising set. Definitely one of the sets of the weekend, it’s a real uptempo, infactuating performance – no surprise she’s had multiple call-ups for HÖR and Boiler Room.
Sunday
I’ll be completely honest, my legs are starting to feel it now. My health app shows a massive spike in activity, no doubt fueled by my non-negotiable rite of passage to start two-stepping the second good music kicks in. I’ve had a couple of guilty poutines in the evenings (for cultural immersification of course), perhaps one too many (or little) late night conversations, and a generous sprinkling of booze on top of that.
So it’s a very welcome treat when festival organiser Sandy Boutin arranges for us to head out on a boat trip across a nearby lake to soak in the stunning Canadian landscape. And what a treat it turns out to be.
“This is the life”, I find myself repeatedly saying to the other journalists in the boat, my head tilted back as a fine mist of water sprinkles my face at every jostle in speed. Exploring a few remote woodland retreats tucked along the expansive lakes, I get another chance to connect with locals and absorb the true spirit of the region. Along the way, I’m shown a moose head, a hand-built three-story home constructed in just fifteen months, and some of the most stunning window views I’ve ever witnessed.
A spell of fishing comes next, for which my thirty minutes of patience is kindly rewarded with a sizeable smallmouth bass, met by around of applause by everyone on the island, and a lot of chatter in French, which was admittedly not understood but met with a few nods and smiles. Next to me, one of the French journo pulls out two of the same fish, dwarfing my short-lived euphoria before we hop back on the boat to head back towards the dock.
I may have lost two-one to the French delegation of journalists and executives, but I think I can sleep satisfied tonight. Besides, the first one they caught came off my line about a minute prior, so it might as well be half my catch, right? Draw in my books.
Riding back to the main street in a Tesla, Sunday night is the festival’s final stretch. An entirely different demographic had descended upon the town for the ‘metal night’, in sight a wave of long hair, tattoos, and black band shirts (no disrespect to stereotypes, just stating the facts). We spend a short but intense final evening sampling the metal lineup, a genre that has historically proved a bit too brutal for my bare earcanals.
With the heavy guitars wrapped up, Montreal-based DJ FLLEUR steps in to close out the festival in style. Tearing through a genre-defying set, effortlessly hybridising raw electronic beats with indie-pop hooks, post-punk anthems and unexpected turns at every corner, it’s the perfect soundtrack to have a last dance to, share a few hugs and farewells, before ultimately heading back to the hotel for a sharp 6am wakeup.
Monday
Sitting on the ten-hour coach back to Montreal airport, I finally have the space to reflect on an unforgettable few days. If you’d told me at the start of the year that I’d be diving headfirst into Canada’s music scene in Rouyn Noranda in September, I would’ve been pretty surprised. Now? I completely get it.
A group of eager music fanatical Brits dropped in a remote down in the middle of North America… nothing could go wrong could it? We live for this stuff…
Over just four days, I’ve fallen deeply in love with Rouyn-Noranda, Montreal and Canada’s thriving music scene – but most importantly, the people. FME delivered a wonderfully warm, open-armed atmosphere, a cosy haven where the music continuously surprised and impressed.
And so arriving back to heavy rainfall at Heathrow, the withdrawal symptoms from such a high begin to kick in. The only thing instinctively springing to mind is the echo of a phrase I picked up along the way…
Vive Rouyn-Noranda. Vive Québec.